It's a weird feeling. I guess how Kinky Friedman's mates feel. I'm still trying to get my head around there being the real me, sat here typing a blog post and the other abstract me, stuck between the pages of a book.

Would I really shout those things? I don't know. Maybe virtual me is shoutier. I suppose I find out when we meet in Prague later this year. I hope he doesn't thump me. He seems wild.